


Thank You

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Sherlock December Ficlets 2017 [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Sherlock December Ficlets 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: A winter holiday weekend in Sussex





	Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of the [Sherlock December Ficlets ](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fcollections%2FSherlock_December_Ficlets_2017&t=NjRmODc4ZjE3OGJjNjUzYzg2NWVhY2QzMTRjNDJmOTUwMzdkOTRhMCxabzFVQjBkMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfMPAp7-tN-90HMCNGHRDOw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fmissdaviswrites.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167644180668%2Fsherlock-december-ficlets&m=0) challenge. Each will be its own story, though knowing me a couple may follow an arc of sorts.  
> The prompt used for this entry: Snowball fight / Winter sports

“Grandad! Grandad! Look!”

Less than ten feet away. Not enough time to have solidified. Small hands, the missile can only be but so large. He knows there is no escaping it and plays along.

“What is it?” He looks at his grandson just in time for a snowball to explode dead center of his chest. He gasps in mock sounds of pain from his grandson’s attack as he falls to his knees. Another junior combatant joins the Gang up on Grandad party each getting closer as they loft barely rounded snow at him. He continues the wounded sounds until one tackles him and he angles his fall into a snow bank by a tree.

Neither of the young charges notice the presence of their other grandfather hiding behind said tree until it’s too late and snow dumps heavily on the lot from a shaken branch above.

“Grampa!! There is SNOW melting down my back!” Their granddaughter squeals in juvenile indignation so very much like her great-uncle that the two men look at each other knowingly and burst into laughter.

“It’s NOT funny!” A pretty pink, albeit petulant, bottom lip pokes outs. Her emphatic stomp, lost to the soft snow, does not help to curtail the mirth of her grandfathers.

“Yes, it is. You’re just being childish, Sherlyn!” Her brother, all of seven minutes older than her six years of age, sighs the sigh of the long suffering.

“Oh do shut it, ‘Borny!”

“It’s Sherborne, get it right!” It is the grandson who now stomps in indignation.

“Oh, don’t you dare laugh!” Squinting blue eyes scoops a handful of snow and pelts his husband who cackles with laughter, setting off another snowball skirmish.

The twins’ mother grins at the merry war of grandfathers versus grandchildren from the kitchen window. She catches her father’s warm brown eyes and mouths a heartfelt _thank you_.

Uncle Sherlock and Uncle John, her cousin Rosie, along with Rosie's spouse and their kids arrive minutes later making it a proper family holiday. The uncles have brought toboggans and a mini Olympics luge course is created on the slight hill behind the house to the delight of everyone who takes turns.

“Who’s thirsty for homemade hot cocoa?” Her husband sing-songs from the mudroom door and laughingly stands aside for the impending stampede.

Later when the kids have all been put to bed, she is grinning as the now part-time consulting detective pulls a face when the former cop and erstwhile minor government official share a kiss on the couch, only to blush when the former captain, erstwhile doctor and part-time blogger sneaks around him from behind, wraps the taller man in his arms and plants a good one on the idiot genius who had forgotten he was standing under the mistletoe as he pretended to grouse.

“There’s enough folks left at NSY to handle the criminal classes this weekend sergeant. See this smile on your face, honey? That right there is all the _thanks_ Myc and I need.” Greg and Mycroft each give their daughter a kiss on the forehead as they head off to bed.

The quintessential workaholic - she got it naturally from both of her fathers after all- was initially furious, not having a vote in the matter when Dad and Poppa joined forces against her wishes and made calls that ended with her having the long holiday weekend off from work. Yet she could not deny, the drive from London to Sussex was worth it to simply exist for moments like this.

Yes, she will grouse come next week, when all the paperwork she’s neglecting, will be waiting for her. But right now? She could not have cared less as she looks around the love filled home, grateful the old men still had pull.


End file.
